


Of Futures Past

by JeffrevinAO3



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeffrevinAO3/pseuds/JeffrevinAO3
Summary: Everybody loves happy endings. So, for my first work, I've chosen to expand on them.Palpatine is dethroned, the plot to destroy the Jedi is revealed, and the Republic and Separatists reconcile their politics.The future has yet to be laid out.
Kudos: 8





	1. What It All Means

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New futures are cast for the heroes of the Clone Wars.

Ahsoka Tano woke.

The low rumble of the engines of the Venator-class rolled through the metal plated deck. Ahsoka had spent years onboard these ships, practically a second home away from the Temple on Coruscant, fighting battle after battle, waging war in the seemingly righteous name of the Republic.

She knew, as she slid her feet to the floor, the war could soon be over. The windowless corridors of a Star Destroyer could very well soon become the brightly lit windows of the Jedi Temple, rays of sunlight pouring through them.

Her presence called for the attention of every clone she passed, white plastoid armor with streaks of Legion blue arcing into a salute as the Togruta in Mandalorian armor strided on by, returning the gesture with a smile and her own.

The pair of clones onboard the turbolift, dressed in the dark uniforms of bridge officers, straightened up and greeted her with a nod, the door sliding closed with a swish as the lift carried its passengers upwards.

A clone hollered out the traditional command as the door revealed the starboard bridge, with fellow brothers coming to attention as they heard the words.

She stepped out, greeting Rex, the Commander’s armor and gear dented and scratched through years of combat. The two traded smiles, ones that said their ordeal would almost be over soon, as Rex beckoned her to the front of the bridge.

Red and yellow emblems of the Open Circle fleet rose upon the arms of the bridge crew in the pits as they walked by, looking out the large triangular windows into the blue and black beyond before the shape of a planet sailed into view.

The Venator thundered out of hyperspace, entering the orbit of the giant city-planet of Coruscant looming ahead of them, as other Republic ships maneuvered their way through the scrap piles of Separatist vessels strewn about the local space.

The giant ship descended upon the planetary docks, guided in by gunships on either side of the vessel, their size miniscule compared to itself. The night skyline of the planet was lit in brilliant tints of yellow and orange, and swaths of tints of red.

Clamps extended forth and latched on with resounding thuds as the Venator came in to dock, the two commanders gazing out upon the Coruscant nightlife as the crew continued down their checklists, preparing for disembarkation of the personnel and mechanized equipment. They spent but a lengthy moment, listening to the dull roar of vehicles and craft flying by. The two turned, making their way alongside several of the officers toward the turbolift.

A figure stood at the end of the long ramp up to the platform running alongside the bay, their hair and robes flowing in the cold windy breeze, their figure unmistakable to any person, Jedi or clone.

She traded glances with her longtime friend, a wide grin enthusiastically encouraging her to go right ahead.

Ahsoka leapt off her left foot, each step further up the ramp seeming to be a mile even at a full sprint. Much less a sprint, much more an exuberant dash, fueled by pure joy and euphoria waiting for her at the end of the ramp.

Her lekku bounced off her chest and her back, her two sabers swinging in place.

She leapt into the open arms of Anakin Skywalker, wrapping her own two tightly around his chest, forcing him to stagger back from the speed of her movement, both of them holding each other as close as they had ever done.

The air around them hung still with every word unspoken from the last several years. Every memory, every moment, large and small. Their shared experiences, the names of every person met along the way. Their successes. Their failures.

The figure of a girl, her shadowed silhouette descending slowly against a setting sky.

The figure of a man, the uncertainty on one face meeting the confidence of another.

They unwrapped each other after what seemed to be hours, looking at each other, their familiar eyes holding so much more meaning. So much more depth. So much more life.

It was over. It was all over.  
It was a new time. A new future.

Ahsoka Tano forced into words what little she could collect from her thoughts.  
“I’m still here, Anakin.  
“Everything can change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Experience outranks everything. And I intend to gain a lot of it.  
> If only every story wrapped up as happily as this one.


	2. Sweet Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka bids farewell to the pair that opened her eyes to the real world.

“Anakin, go on ahead. I’ll catch up later.”  
Anakin and Rex turned to look at Ahsoka, who had trailed back and stopped a couple of paces away. The night breeze blew through the wide open gaps of the platform, the giant Venator and the Coruscant skyline lit up in the darkness.  
“Later?” her master questioned, giving her an equally questioning look. “Come on, Snips, you just got back.”  
Ahsoka returned his expression with one of her own, a resolved smirk on her face. “I know, Master. But I have to do something. I owe it to them. And besides,” she said, turning around, “they have something I’d like back.”  
Behind her, Anakin and Rex traded glances, watching her retreat at a light jog back down the platform.  
“I’ll meet you back at the Temple!” she called over her shoulder.

Glimmers of purple and blue morning light met the overwhelming black of the Coruscanti night sky as the Actis fighter streaked through the airspace, carving its own path outside of the standard skylanes.  
Ahsoka scanned the dark, dull cityscape below for landmarks as she flew along, the structures being far smaller from the air than from the ground. Following a familiar looking pipeline, she piloted the fighter into a giant hole where the pipes descended, the small craft speeding past civilian ships and freighters as she scanned the sides of the underworld portal.  
A lonesome landing platform jutted out from one of the sides of the shaft, the scrape marks still visible from the time she had crash landed a speeder bike on it only a number of days earlier. The empty platform accepted another arriving craft as the fighter set itself down on its three landing legs, with Ahsoka stepping out as the canopy opened.  
She peered up at the giant hangar bay doors, shut together tightly without a sliver of light peeking through them, then down along the walls of the giant shaft, searching for a control panel.  
She beckoned Arseven over to one by the edge of the doors, to which the droid moved themselves over and interacted with a series of clicks. The doors slid open but a miniscule amount, just enough to let them in.

The Martez sisters’ workshop was nearly pitch black, with the dim overhead lights reflecting off the hull of the Silver Angel. Ahsoka took in the sight for a moment, the spots of dust and debris from the misadventures the ship had been on, the name stenciled into the side of the craft in Basic.  
Ahsoka made her way over to a corner of the room lit by an overhead lamp. Sat on a table was her bike, shining in the light as if it were new. She ran a hand along the speeder, the hunk of junk- Trash, as it had been named- that was the catalyst for everything that had occurred up to the present.  
She looked around in the darkness, searching, watching, waiting.  
She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, resigning herself to leaving without saying-

“Ahsoka!” A voice called through the barely lit hangar.  
There was the sound of metal tools clattering to the floor as Trace Martez, dressed in her usual red jacket, rushed at her and wrapped her arms around her.  
“You’re here! And-” Trace let go, giving her a onceover- “You look different.”  
“Mandalorian armor.” Ahsoka turned slightly, letting her friend take in her new appearance.  
Trace nodded in satisfaction, her eyes casting themselves over to Ahsoka’s waist, then darting back up to look at her.  
“And lightsabers?” came the incredulous reply. Ahsoka nodded.  
“So you’re a Jedi again?”  
Ahsoka’s expression changed, dropping from a smile to a slight frown, her eyes darting over at her bike, but looking at nothing in particular. She looked back up at Trace, whose own smile had subsided a little.  
“I don’t know.”  
The response provoked no further questioning.

Both of them looked over at the bike. “You want it back?” Trace asked.  
“Yeah.” The smile returned to Ahsoka’s face. She stepped back, allowing Trace to heave the resting bike off the table. “Where’s Rafa, if you’re up this early?”  
Trace stuck a finger up at her approaching sister, dressed lightly in her white sweater and beige vest.  
“Ahsoka.” The older sister embraced the Togruta, breaking off after a few seconds. “Glad to see you’re alive.”  
“You have no idea, Rafa,” she replied. “At least, not yet.”  
“I’ll bet.”  
The three turned back to the bike, now hovering at rest on the ground.

They remained silent for a bit, looking at the speeder.  
Rafa broke the poignant silence. “Any news about the war, then?”  
Ahsoka’s expression softened, as did her voice.  
“It’s over,” she said, both to them and to herself. “It’s all over.”  
“Really?” Trace exclaimed, her voice echoing around the hangar. “That- that’s great!”  
Both her and Rafa broke out into joyous laughter, Ahsoka standing back and watching as Trace jumped into Rafa’s arms and the two rocked, sharing a hug, a warm yet unforgetting smile on her face. Neither of them would truly understand.  
It would be better if they didn’t.

There was yet another silence after the mirthful festivities, before the three collectively remembered their previous purpose. Trace beckoned to the doors, bringing the bike alongside her. Arseven sat by the door, following them out.  
Ahsoka looked down at the speeder, then over to the sisters. “Hey, uh, thanks for taking care of it.”  
“No problem at all, Ahsoka,” Trace replied. The two sisters returned her smile.  
Ahsoka kneeled down, inspecting the bike more closely. “So, you sure this thing won’t fall apart on me again?”  
“If it does, blame her, not me,” Rafa said, jokingly raising both hands and taking a couple of steps back.

Ahsoka swung her leg over, seating herself upon the saddle of the bike. She glanced over at her astromech, and the Actis still sitting on the deck. “Arseven, take the fighter back to the Temple. I’ll meet back up there.”  
The droid beeped in compliance, the craft taking back off with the three looking on.  
“So, I guess this is goodbye,” Trace said, standing alongside her, peering back down from the ascending fighter.  
Ahsoka shrugged. “I’ll keep in touch, or stop by or something.  
“But it’s been good knowing you two.”  
They both nodded.  
“Take care, Ahsoka,” Trace told her.  
“See you ‘round, Ahsoka.”  
Ahsoka said nothing, letting her look say everything she couldn’t say as she started the bike and gripped the handlebars, letting off a couple of revs.

The bike rose quickly through the night sky, speeding along just above the ground as it reached the surface level. The wind whipped at Ahsoka’s face, her lekku flying in the wind.  
The cold air heightened her senses, bringing to life everything she had barely felt, from being lost after the Order and from the war. The speed, the ferocity of the wind, the brilliant lights and civilian speeders zipping by.  
The Jedi Temple rose in the distance, its towers standing tall against the slowly brightening sky.  
_This is it,_ she told herself. _For once, this is what freedom feels like._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually surprised at myself for pursuing this, but I feel it's better to wrap up loose ends.  
> This chapter was clearly done in a much more different than the first, which was supposed to be a standalone work, and thus had more of a poetic influence when writing it.  
> It's pretty much an expectation that I'll explore Ahsoka rejoining the Order, but there's still a lot to include in there! Clone culture and Coruscanti integration, Anakin's relationship with Padme, and some stuff that might become theoretical non-canon stories.


	3. The Sith's Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed to Anakin Skywalker.

Ahsoka guided the speeder through the door, which shut with a satisfying slide as she stepped into her old room.  
Everything was as pristine as the day she had left for her deployment to Cato Neimoidia all that time ago. The small bed set on the floor, the pillow plopped at the head near the wall, the two cushions beside it, bare without their burden of lightsabers atop them.  
Ahsoka smiled at the familiarity of it all, moving the speeder over into the corner of the room nearest the door and setting it down. She lifted her bag off her back, setting it down next to the speeder, kneeling down and opening it up.  
The faint light showing through the slanted slits in the window across the room shone on her very limited possessions. A handful of credits she had gathered from here and there out in the world of Coruscant. A mechanic’s jumpsuit from her days as an outcast. A tank top, a pair of pants, a jumble of armbands, a golden necklace with a diamond shaped pendant.  
She sifted through the remnants, casting her sight upon a relic of her past as much as the light would allow her to see it. She pulled up a headdress, the dark green pieces strung up by an ornate series of strings and shaped beads.  
The headdress stared back at her, her hands holding it up in the vague shape of when it had fit on her own head.  
She took a breath in, closing her eyes, then let it out, setting the headdress down.  
There was a noise as she opened her eyes back up, looking over to the door.

“Figured I might find you in here.” Anakin put on his classic smirk as he walked inside. Ahsoka gave him a smile as he set himself down, sitting on the floor beside her. He took a look around the room, letting out a sigh of his own.  
“I haven’t been in here since-” He paused.  
Ahsoka looked over at him, observing her master. He had shut his eyes, but his face and the aura around him still projected his emotions and thoughts. Pain and loss overwhelmed her senses. Grief. Guilt. Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel as he did as well.  
She reached out, grasping his human hand in hers. She looked into his eyes, the piercing blue meeting those of the other.  
“I’m here,” she breathed, barely a whisper. But Anakin understood.  
Both knelt silently, their eyes closed in remembrance, the sounds of the Coruscanti traffic barely a low rumble in the room.  
“Master, we need to talk.” Ahsoka’s words cut the silence. Her master looked over, curious.  
“Whatever it is, Snips, I think your report’s going to cover it-”  
“I can’t wait for the report,” she retorted. “And, besides, both of us know you’re not one to read one of such length.”  
Smiles returned to both of them, but only for a moment. “So, what is it?”  
“Maul..”  
Her voice trailed off.  
It was too much to tell him. He was _Anakin,_ for crying out loud. She had known him for so long- maybe known him a little _too_ long.  
What if he didn’t believe her? What if he would doubt everything she told him?  
But he was Anakin. The only one she could truly, wholeheartedly trust.

She took in a breath, starting again.  
“When I was on Mandalore, Maul told me something. It was the whole reason he even took over total control of the planet, anyway.  
“We thought it was because of Master Kenobi, for revenge, or for some sort of political gain, but we were wrong. The whole time, we were _wrong._ It wasn’t about Obi-Wan, or attempting to grow in power and regain strength.  
“It was for _you._ ”  
Ahsoka looked up at Anakin, her eyes meeting his once again. For but a moment, she felt his thoughts again: the uncertainty, the panic, the fear. The execution of Palpatine replayed in his mind.  
“The whole thing was a setup to lead you and Master Kenobi there, just so he could exact revenge on him and take care of you. Because what he said was true: you were being trained as a pupil of Palpatine, a pupil of the Dark Side.”  


She stopped briefly, feeling her own memories of her master resurfacing. The self-driven anger that nearly killed Rako Hardeen, secretly an Obi-Wan in disguise. Anakin crushing Cody’s holoprojector in his hand, the smashed pad falling to the ground. The blue blade of his lightsaber against the Zygerian slaver’s neck, no more than a centimeter away from slicing his head off.  
_Seeds of the Dark Side planted by your Master. Can you feel it?_ “You were going to become something nobody but him and Palpatine realized you could ever become.”  


_It’s my fault. Everything’s my fault. I thought he was my friend. I thought I could trust him.  
But no. He just used me- he deceived me. I was only a pawn. How couldn’t I see it?  
And Padme. I told him about her- I_ trusted _him with her. He could have made me kill her._  
Anakin felt a pair of arms wrapped around his chest, Ahsoka burrowing the side of her head deep into his shoulder, eyes shut tight and her forehead against the side of his neck.  
_He_ would _have made me kill her._

“I know it’s hard to take in. But you have to believe me.”  
Ahsoka’s eyes filled with a panicked sense of urgency. Would he believe her? Would he not? Would he just cast her aside, cast her off again like the rest of the Jedi?  
_"Please, Anakin."_  
The silence hung for what felt like moments at a time, the air strung with fear, panic, doubting.  
Anakin’s voice broke the spell.  
“I do, Ahsoka. I do believe you.”  
She let out a pent up breath she hadn’t even realized she had taken in, tightening her hug around him.  


A tear started down the cheek of Ahsoka's face, letting itself drop onto Anakin's robes.  
All the memories, the fears, the failures, the war, encapsulating themselves into emotional droplets as they fell freely from her sobbing figure, holding her master tighter and tighter. It would take time. It would take an enormous amount of time, and effort. But if he understood, so would everybody else. This was Anakin, after all. And there was no way he’d ever let her go.  
Ever.

The dawning sun slowly broke the dark night as the pair knelt together, silently, solemnly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my personal opinion, I'm slowly getting better. Slowly. Slooowly.  
> This is also the first time I'm involving elements of flashbacks and internal thoughts in writing this work, which I think I carried out to a degree of success.  
> Stakes are rising for what comes next!


	4. By the Spires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending of the Clone Wars plays out a little differently.

Ahsoka hugged a knee, her other leg dangling off the bench she was sat upon in the anteroom outside the Council chamber. Off in the far distance, the sky continued to turn from night blue to a rich morning orange, the sun peeking over the mass of high rises and flat urban buildings along the horizon.  
She appreciated every passing second of silence afforded to her, savoring every inhale of air. It was as if time had slowed itself down just for her, letting her watch the world, the world silently watching her. She tucked in her other leg, moving her arms to accommodate it.  
What seemed like a lifetime ago, she had walked the steps outside the chamber, through the halls of the Temple, and down the steps of the place she had called her home, intending for every one taken to be her last.

It seemed strange for her to be sitting there, then, glancing around the room as if she had no idea why she was there in the first place. Indeed, Ahsoka hadn’t, at least to her conscious knowledge. Her heart pounded in quiet anxiety.  
Why was she there, then? The question echoed through her mind, thoughts bouncing around and coming to the forefront, one after the other. She had no obligation to answer to the Jedi Council anymore. She wasn’t a Padawan, or an actual Commander. She was just a citizen, as she had said, and as had been pointed out quite starkly on Mandalore.  
Whatever it was, Anakin hadn’t told her any step of the way, not from the walk from her room through the halls of the Temple, or the turbolift ride up the High Council Tower. But she couldn’t help but notice him taking her headdress along with him, treated as tenderly and as caringly as he could.  
Maybe it was something special. Maybe they would reinstate her as a Padawan. It wasn’t just likely, it had to be a certainty. Maybe that was why she was here, why Anakin had been so quiet.  
But could she trust them? Trust the Jedi Order, the same people who Barriss had so belligerently and rightfully accused of hypocrisy, allowing the Clone Wars to corrupt them and their sense in the Jedi Code? Trust the same people who had betrayed her, had turned their backs on her, had cast her out in her most dire time of need, when they should have stood by her and denied every accusation instead of backing down and cowering in fear?

Anakin was the only person she could trust. Anakin was the only person she knew she could trust. Anakin was her master, her closest friend, the closest she would ever have to an older brother. Anakin would know what to say. Anakin would know what to do. Anakin-  
Anakin had just stepped out, the giant ornate doors sliding shut behind him. Ahsoka looked up, meeting his eyes.  
“They’re ready for you, Ahsoka.”

The doors slid shut, sealing the room, which was, to put it simply, quiet.  
Several chairs were vacant, with no hologram being projected over them. Their occupants had been casualties of the fight against Palpatine, in his last futile attempts at usurping total control of the Republic, tipping the balance of the Force, and eradicating and destroying the entirety of the Jedi Order.  
The last casualties of the Clone Wars, hopefully; the last of a conflict that had been engineered from the beginning to destroy the universe they had known from within.  
The remainder sat, their faces gazing upon hers from their posh chairs as she turned her head around the circular chamber. Master Shaak Ti. Master Mundi. Master Allie. Master Plo. Master Kenobi. Master Yoda.  
Anakin Skywalker.

“Ahsoka Tano.” Shaak Ti spoke, a warm smile on her lips. “The Council would like to extend its most profound gratitude in your role in capturing the Sith Lord, Darth Maul, and your utmost duty in preserving the safety of our galaxy.”  
“You have once again exemplified yourself for far more than anything we can truly recognize or appreciate.” Ki-Adi Mundi’s voice was soft and firm. “There can be no limit on the depths of our thanks for all you have done.”  
“What you have done as well, Ahsoka, is teach the Council a valuable lesson in revealing the plot of the Sith. Just as we acted during your trial, we came to realize that we were too blinded by the Dark Side to truly regain the Light.” Stass Allie spoke directly, clearly, every word that came out holding definitive meaning to it.  
“You have grown so much, little ‘Soka,” Plo Koon said, his expression hidden behind his mask and goggles, although Ahsoka knew it was one of profound kindheartedness and endearment. “And in doing so, you have taught us to grow as well. Know that we now see what we should have seen far earlier, and know that we know these truths are to be as impactful as you too have seen them to be.”  
“Ahsoka, the Council would like to graciously and respectfully ask your return.” Obi-Wan’s accent cut through the air, but he was soft, and his tone humble. “But it is your choice if you wish to accept our most sincere apology as well.”  
The only master who hadn’t spoken was Master Yoda, his eyes, hundreds of years old, telling of age and wisdom, set upon her, his small figure clutching his wooden stick, a small smile upon his face.  
She brought her eyes up to meet Anakin, standing off to the side.  
“They’re asking you back, Ahsoka.”  
He extended his arm, unrolling his right hand.  
“I’m asking you back.”  
Her heart plummeted when she saw what he held in hand.

Her padawan braid, the silka beads staring back up at her, was laid out in palm.  
It was as if a wind had started blowing in the room, drowning out all but the two of them, and the braid of beads in her master’s hand.  
She looked between Anakin and the braid, letting her arms fall to her sides. She saw his expression, his eyes, knew him enough to know that, under the surface, he didn’t want her to leave him, ever again.  
She peered back down at the braid, the beads and shapes still looking back up at her. Her stomach fluttered, heavy and trembling with emotion.  
She closed her eyes, letting out a breath, before reopening them and reaching her left hand forward, as she had done so long ago.  
The hand touched the braid.

The fingers lifted it up.  
Ahsoka Tano peered up at her Master once again, giving him a mixed look of everything she couldn’t convey out loud. The happiness of reuniting with him again. The sadness of the Clone Wars, of the Jedi Order turning itself inside out. The grief from their betrayal, from the years spent not as a peacekeeper, but as a warrior.  
The guilt. The pain. From ever leaving Anakin Skywalker behind in the first place.  
This was her home. This was her family.  
Ahsoka opened her mouth.  
“I won’t ever leave you, Anakin.”  
Her look grew into a smile as Anakin embraced her, both of them closing their eyes and enjoying their heartfelt reunion.

Both separated, Ahsoka reaching up and removing the Mandalorian headgear from atop her head. Anakin brought the headdress out, handing it over and allowing her to affix it back onto her lekku, the beads and shapes wrapped around them. Ahsoka affixed the braid back upon its rightful place, hanging behind her right montral.  
The Master and the Padawan stared back at the Council, watching each face, warm and satisfied smiles upon each of its members.  
Master Yoda looked up at her once again, and bowed as he spoke.  
“Welcome back, Padawan Ahsoka Tano.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took time, this one took patience, this one took me staying up listening to music to get in the mood.  
> Can I just say how hard it is for somebody to find actually good sentimental music to listen to that inherently _don't_ have a building sense of urgency a few measures into the soundtrack?  
> I honestly feel like this could have used a lot more brushing up, but I wanted to fit it within my own time and perfectionism is a key flaw and a fault in my personality.  
> I'll likely revisit it and rewrite it a bit in a little while. So, check back soon!


	5. The Reason Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the war over, soldiers must rediscover their true purpose.

“Ahsoka. Why now.”  
Ahsoka stood with Anakin’s hands on her shoulders, his eyes locked, digging directly into hers.  
The slowly rising sun cast its light upon the pair, their shadows stretched to their sides.  
She was at a loss for words. Part of her knew the Order was as close to her family as she would ever get. Part of her knew she meant more than anybody realized to Anakin. Part of her knew she still wanted to make a difference.  
But the truth was, overwhelmingly,  
“I don’t know, Master.”  
She didn’t know.  
She closed her eyes, tilting her head downwards. Emotions bottled up inside her throat.  
She had acted in the moment, only recalling the sensation of movement as she had reached forward, felt her braid in her hand, felt her set the headdress back upon her lekku, tucking them between the beads.  
She couldn’t bear the sensation of being lost once more. Being another face in the galaxy. Having no true objective, serving no real purpose.  
Yet, something inside her still felt off, still felt wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She had been betrayed, she had moved on, she had seen the Jedi Order for what they had become. So, why was she still sitting there, her headdress upon her lekku, her padawan braid hanging from her head?  
_Why am I here?_

 _I should have said no._  
I should have said no.  
_I should have said I wasn’t coming back. I should have said I had enough, that I had seen everybody for what they truly were, that nobody could have cared less if I stayed or left, that nobody cared if I was ‘family’ or if I really ever cared about the Jedi Code and the Order and everything I had been taught for as long as I’ve been alive.  
All I’ve been since I was a Padawan was a soldier. All I’ve known is death and destruction and the needless loss of life, all because of some stupid Dark Lord of the Sith setting all the traps and playing us all.  
All I’m good at is fighting, and whatever else I’ve been taught. What good is meditation and ‘peacekeeping’ and worshipping some blasted ancient code, anyways?  
Why am I here, Ahsoka?_

Anakin closed his eyes, though his Padawan didn’t see it, and sat down beside her, a hand still resting on her shoulder.  
He let out a sigh. “Did you do it for me?”  
The girl barely moved her head.  
But it was enough for Anakin to deduce her behavior, her emotions. She was his Padawan, after all, and one would be remiss if they didn’t heed their own apprentice’s feelings. But, more than that, they had formed an unbreakable bond. One that let Anakin speak, knowing what to say, knowing why to say it.

“If you don’t know, I do.  
“This war’s tested us, Ahsoka. It’s taxed us, it’s tried our emotions, our feelings, our faith and dedication. But it was a trap, a setup by somebody I thought I trusted.”  
The girl beside him turned, looking at him speak.  
“You thought the Council couldn’t trust you. When you needed them most, they turned their backs, they left you to die. It wasn’t right, and they knew only afterwards, when everything was finished and done. They couldn’t learn. They don’t know what it’s like to be you, or me, or an actual individual.  
“When I was young, I lost somebody too.”  
Ahsoka lifted her head up, listening to Anakin speak about a topic that had been forbidden since all that time ago.  
“She was very close to me, as close as I am to you, or to Padme. In fact, more so, actually.  
“I couldn’t save her. And I knew it was against everything I was being told at the time, but I had to try.  
“ _She died,_ Ahsoka. She died in my arms, and there was nothing I could do to save her. And I _killed_ in revenge.”  
Anakin burrowed his head into his hands.  
“I wanted to protect her, Ahsoka. As I wanted to protect you, and everybody else I loved. And Palpatine told me I could.”  
His voice had changed. His voice had deepened, as if he was struggling to relive repressed emotions.  
“I could do that. _Save the people I loved from dying._ And I _believed_ him. I was _that desperate._  
“But I was just a pawn. He took advantage of me, and everything I thought and said and did. He _listened._ He _mentored me,_ told me what I thought I should do. But all he did was just push me towards becoming something I’m not.”

Anakin clasped Ahsoka’s hand in both of his own.  
“When I was given a seat on the Council, I protested. I told them it was outrageous. It was unfair. A Jedi, on the Council, but not as a Master. I thought they couldn’t trust me. I thought the only person I could trust was Palpatine. And that was why I wasn’t a master: I placed my trust in the wrong person. In the wrong people, every time. I could never truly realize who I was because of them. All of them. Because every person I ever knew was trying to influence me, manipulate me, pull me in every direction at once. Everybody was tearing me apart.  
“None of them knew. None of them knew what I ever went through, because telling the Council would mean losing everything I ever knew. Not about her, because they wouldn’t understand. They never _listened,_ or _cared,_ or _understood._ Not for you, not for me, not for Obi-Wan. Not for anybody.  
“And once Palpatine was out of the picture, I realized I couldn’t trust anybody. _Including myself._  
“That’s why you’re still here, Ahsoka. Because you’re lost, like me. You don’t know what to do. _I_ don’t know what to do. And you and I both know, I _always_ know what to do.”  
Ahsoka felt an arm drape itself around her shoulders.  
“I’m still here- you’re still here- because we both want to find _purpose._ Some sort of reason for being around. Before, it was the war, but you know that’s all over now. And without it, there’s nothing else viable for us being here.”  
“Barriss was right, Ahsoka, as much as I hate to say it. You and I, we weren’t Jedi anymore, we were soldiers. Soldiers fighting _with_ the Separatists, not against them, because everything was planned out just to corrupt us and end us. Everything was just to cause chaos and havoc, and blind us to what was really going on. There were never two sides, just us and him.  
“So now, we’re back to where we started. We need to find purpose, a reason for why we’re here, why we survived everything when the odds were stacked against us. And it could be in the Order, or it doesn’t have to be.  
“A lot of people say the galaxy’s lucky to have me. But, if I’ll be honest, Snips, they’re lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.  
“Because you know that, as long as I’m here, you’ll still be here with me.  
“Because I’m just that special, Snips.”  
Ahsoka felt herself let out a laugh, in spite of the moment and much to her surprise. Anakin smiled gently, noticing the effect the words had on her.  
"Because you're just that special."

Anakin and Ahsoka cast their gaze outward upon the skyline, the sun now rising steadily as vibrant colors began to flicker to life here and there, as a dull roar of an entire planet celebrating made its way to Anakin’s ears and Ahsoka’s montrals.  
“Want a stroll through the gardens?”  
Finally, Ahsoka looked up at him, her posture affirming her newfound confidence in herself. Wherever she would go, whatever she would face off against, everything she did. Every step of the way.  
“That’d be nice, Master. Thank you.”  
They stood, preparing to leave.  
“And what say we join the folks outside celebrating in a little bit?” Anakin asked, watching Ahsoka adjust her outfit. The dull roar outside continued. “Sounds like they’re having a great time.”  
“Hah. A party spanning the entire galaxy? You know me.” She traded him their classic smirk. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, Skyguy.”  
Anakin responded with a smirk back as he guided Ahsoka back out the doors, his arm draped around his Padawan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, I felt the previous chapter lacked in emotion, but I think it was perfectly complemented by this one. Where Ahsoka's acting more in the moment to how she truly feels when something happens, this one gives her the time to look back and think and ask herself why.  
> I think it also dove a bit into ideas that are true to me, which might be why I just had Anakin spout endless amounts of dialogue.  
> That or it's because I was actually listening to the appropriate music and ambience for writing this time around.  
> Oh, well. Until tomorrow's chapter! Let's get Rex drunk!


	6. Honor Their Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex, Cody, and Wolffe relive the worst and best of their time in the Clone Wars.

The bar at 79’s had never been more packed.  
The cantina was bustling with clones, a sea of dark crew uniforms mingling with white plastoid armor, hues of light and streaks of company colors cast across the floors. In a corner here were clones of the same platoon toasting each other, in a corner there was another trio, drunkenly attempting to chastise a petite lady into joining them.  
Rex, Cody, and Wolffe sat at the counter, their armor off, but each one still distinct in appearance. Clones from across the Republic greeted each one in turn, sharing in the largest victory in the galaxy.  
They had done it. They had won the Clone Wars.  
Off to the side was Kix gesturing wildly in conversation to Jesse, in another was Boil from Cody’s battalion sitting at a table with Commander Monnk from the aquatic corps, likely sharing in times of unique missions to unexplored corners of the battlefield. Here and there stood captains and commanders, some still wearing their distinct armor. Here and there were Coruscant Guards, some remaining proactively on post, others with helmets off and sharing lightly in the festivities, to the chagrin of their fellow brothers.

Even with the electricity hanging in the air of the cantina, none of them spoke, silently sipping on their beverages and taking in the excitement being shared by their brothers in arms around them. Clones that were sober enough to tell the difference knew not to indulge the trio, much less any of their commanding officers, in too much of the fun. Even if they had deserved every bit of it, even if not just they, but the entire Grand Army of the Republic deserved it. Every sip they took, every clink of their glasses, spoke a somber mood within their hearts. Each toast was to a different name, each word barely heard over the din of the rowdy room one reminiscing of their brothers, their stories, their heroics.  
Rex downed the last of his glass, setting it on the table. The barkeep glanced over, acknowledging the next refill along a very busy counter.  
The war was finally over, and with it came a sense of pride, a sense of loss, a sense of guilt. Pride in finally achieving what they, as soldiers, had been designed and intended to achieve. Loss for every brother fallen along the way, numbering in the millions, their names remembered on reports and in records, but also in the hearts of their own fellow clones. Guilt for knowing that they should have been there, celebrating with each and every one of their brothers, and if not there, in another cantina along the surface level, or somewhere serving good drinks in the entire galaxy.

Rex let his mind wander across every name of the fallen of the 501st. Every clone he had met on the battlefield.  
There had been times for each one to be a hero in combat. There had been times where each one had been their own worst enemy. His mind fell on each campaign. Christophsis, Geonosis, Kamino, Umbara, Mandalore. Every planet, for every operation, every mission they had partaken in.  
The night on the Rishi moon outpost, when Hevy had sacrificed his life in fulfilling his duty. Cody had been there, as he had been on Kamino, on Lola Sayu. They had been through the war together, as where General Skywalker led, typically leaving a pile of scrap metal in his wake, General Kenobi usually followed to clean up the mess.  
It wasn’t fair, but of course, war was never fair. The Rishi moon outpost. Domino Squad.  
Fives. Echo. One had thought the other dead, and now, the other had to know the one was truly dead.  
Both of them made ARC troopers under both of their commands. Both of them on the same ops as both him and Cody. Both of them watching as one was forced to leave the other behind, their helmet dented and smoldering on the ground of the landing platform. And now Echo was more machine than human, and the last of Domino. It just wasn’t right.  
He couldn’t have blamed Fives, of course, he had thought Echo had been dead himself. But he still felt a pang of guilt for him, that night in the warehouse on the lower levels, watching him out of his mind as he reached for his own blasters and was shot square in the chest. As he died in his arms, surrounded by his brothers. It was as he had once said, moments away from being executed by soldiers that bore his own face: _No clone should ever have to go out this way.  
The mission. The nightmares. They’re finally... over._  
Rex reached over for his glass.

He looked at Cody, his eyes still hardy and strong despite the amount of alcohol they had consumed already. Being genetically engineered and enhanced supersoldiers gave clones more tolerance to the rigorous fields of combat. Of course it would allow them to handle one too many drinks.  
Both of them knew their minds had wandered to the same thought. Both of them knew of that traitorous bastard, who had eliminated so many of their brethren in one fell swoop, in one night. Both of them dwelled on Waxer. As Rex lifted his helmet off the dying clone, had forced him to recall the orders he had only just learned were fatally untrue in his final moments.  
Umbara had been hell.  
Rex let out a soft sigh, raising his refilled glass silently, as did Cody.  
“To Waxer,” they said in unison. Wolffe turned over, joining in for a moment.  
Their first sips were downed. The glasses were set down.

Both of them sat in silence for a moment, before Cody began to speak.  
“You know, there was this one incident with both Waxer and Boil, the two crazy bastards,” he began. “On Ryloth, back when the Seppies first invaded.”  
“I wasn’t there for that, was I?” Rex asked, taking a small sip from his glass.  
Cody shrugged. “No, no, you weren’t, you were in orbit, so, here’s how it goes.  
“We’re trying to take the planet, and the Seppies are using the civi populace as living shields for their artillery cannons. General Kenobi goes, ‘send your best men to scout ahead’, and so I take Wooley, and of course Waxer and Boil go with each other.  
“Wooley and I are at the front, Waxer and Boil are somewhere way the hell else, and both of us pull back and brief the General on the cannons. We coordinate an assault, try to push up, the Seps release these Gutkurr, these giant things that want to devour us all, and the General comes up with an ingenious solution to trap them in a dead end section of the terrain.  
“Turns out, the other two found a lil’ twin head girl, name’s Numa. And right as we’re regrouping, a tunnel cover right under us opens up, and I’m standing there thinking, ‘oh, what now?’ And it turns out to be Waxer and Boil, and hiding right behind them’s the girl. And, of course, they’re overdue, so I ask, ‘Where have you two been?’ And Waxer goes, ‘We got sidetracked,’ and the girl’s just peeking out from behind Boil’s leg. And turns out, she knew all along about some system of tunnels around the area, and got the General and the two through the lines and out the other side.  
“And all along afterwards, Boil’s telling me he had nothing to do with it, he thought Waxer would get both of them killed, they nearly died trying to get into the tunnel in the first place. Just found ‘em and went with it.”  
Rex smiled, reminiscing about the earlier days. “Well, anything that helps with the mission.”

Cody looked over, ignoring the other troopers trying to drag a laughing woman towards the main floor. “Say, Wolffe, we ever tell you about how Fives and Echo made ARC?”  
“Better to hear about it than reread the report.”  
“It was brilliant, Wolffe, I’m tellin’ ya.” Rex adjusted himself on his stool. “They originally got assigned by one of the ARC Commanders on Kamino for sniper positions, and had to fend off what was probably an entire invading company of droids.  
“And Ninety-Nine’s up there with ‘em, and there’s a bunch of droids trying to flank ‘em, and he realizes there’s a few grenades with his bag of canister mags, so they chuck one at ‘em and blow the clankers to bits. And a bunch of kid clone cadets show up, so the two have to take them back to the barracks. But, while they’re there, we’re being told the clankers are pushing into the main facilities, so Cody and I head down there ourselves.  
“Kids are wondering what we’re going to do, and I go, ‘We fight’, and Fives is going all out and telling the kids we’re all the same, and we’re ready to fight for our home. Ninety-Nine shows us the barracks armory, we’re all ready to grind the clankers to mounds of scrap, and Fives, Echo, Cody, the kid cadets, and I are all fending off the droids. And we end up beating the suckers back.”  
Rex’s expression changed, becoming crestfallen from reliving the exhilaration of the skirmish.  
“And Ninety-Nine?” Wolffe asked.  
Rex shook his head. “Ninety-Nine...”  
“He really was one of us,” Cody spoke after a bit.  
Wolffe nodded, his own expression soft and somber in understanding.  
“To Ninety-Nine.” Rex raised his glass up.  
The glasses clinked again as the trio downed another sip. They sat quietly, observing the crowded room.

“I’ll raise you one more, gents.” Wolffe broke the silence, his drink still in hand. “Worst mission we ever got assigned, gave those of us on the op an actual headache. Get this.  
“We’re assigned to some mercy mission for this planet, Aleen, right? Bunch of earthquakes, or something like that. And it’s a planet full of the tiniest little reptile people that you’ll ever meet, I’m talking less than a meter, tops. And General Skywalker’s two droids, an astromech and some shiny protocol droid, get assigned, and they’re the most annoying pair any clone in the Wolfpack’s got to deal with.  
“And the rest of us are groaning and grumbling and complaining, and you’re damn right we’re downright grateful when we finally have to get rid of those two on General Gallia’s ship, except their ship gets attacked. So we’re assigned to rescue the General, and we have to fight through the entire Separatist ship, and we finally get Gallia back.  
“And as we’re moving to extract, I don’t know, the two droids got lost or something, and they show up right after we’re finished scrapping a bunch of clankers, and General Plo just straight up goes, ‘Finish off the remaining droids’, and who else but those two blasted tin cans show up from behind a hallway pillar or something. And they’ve gone on some wild adventure or something, and Plo just goes, ‘I’m sure Wolffe would love to hear about it’, and of course he just leaves me hanging as the protocol droid just starts going off talking about their damn misadventures.  
“Honestly, should’a just shot it right then and there.” Wolffe did a credible impression, moving his arms about. “It’s a long story, you’d best believe it!”  
The three clones snickered.  
“Do tell, Wolffe, do tell.”  
“Shut up, Cody, I’ll dump this glass right down your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt emotionally detached while writing this, may or may not rework it like I said I would do a few chapters earlier. That or I think I did pretty good for somebody running on a stomach desperately calling for and needing to be fed snacks.  
> But it's interesting to think about how the clones are celebrating the end of their own war. Many, of course, are celebrating, but there's also some of them who choose to sit back and ponder about the war, their lives, why they're still there now. I wanted to mix the ideas of alcoholism and reliving the worst traumas of conflicts versus the idea of celebrating the lives of their brothers, and reminiscing about the good times and humorous moments of the war.


	7. At Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Republic prepares to integrate its loyal soldiers to civilian life.

Rex sat by the side, seated comfortably on a small stack of crates. Around him mulled the clones of the 501st Legion, here and there were the orange markings of the 212th Attack Battalion, in the far reaches of the Venator’s runway were the 104th Battalion, the Wolfpack. Scattered around the giant space were splashes of different colors, in crimson and forest green and yellow.  
He checked the datapad in his hand, scrolling through the assignments, looking over every number, every name, and the words in the several other columns in the table. The orders had come quickly, but would be dispersed through the entirety of the Grand Army within the coming weeks. It would be a godsend for all the clones who hadn’t gotten themselves drunk yet, of course.  
He guided his eyes upon the screen, skimming it, reading each clone and their new occupation in the civilian workforce. Now that there was no war, of course, the entire galaxy would soon be hard at work, quite literally, attempting to place clones bred for combat into menial and mundane jobs.  
Rex didn’t know how they’d all adapt to the change. Every clone had been bred for combat, and some had even reveled in it. Fives and Echo, for instance, or every trooper that had been given a rotary cannon and went berserk. Particularly those types. All good men who had known nothing more than fighting clankers on the front, and now they’d be put into labor. Some could deal with it, but who knew about the others.

The digital clock on the datapad struck the hour mark. Silently, Rex got up, sweeping his eyes over the sea of white armored clones. He knew this wouldn’t be the last time he saw all of them, but he still knew everything was coming to a close. It still felt too soon. It still felt as if they had one more objective to secure, one more campaign to fight. One more battle with Anakin and Ahsoka leading the charge together. Once they were in play, nothing else mattered- they knew they could win. They knew they would win.  
Rex placed his fingers to his mouth and blew shrilly, his whistle echoing around the surrounding area as the clones turned their attention to him. He gestured in the air, striding over to the center of the runway, as the commotion picked up. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the other Commanders, Wolffe, Cody, Bly, Fox, Gree, moving to the head of their own formations, calling each one over.  
“Five-oh-First!” Rex yelled. “Fall in!”  
The mass of white and blue formed up, the bulk first wave of discharges standing smartly at attention, an arm by one side and a helmet under the other.  
Rex cleared his throat, gazing around the formation. Every man there had the same face as him, yet all of them knew the man beside them was an individual, their own brother, one of a giant family of brethren united in the same cause, for the same purpose, to serve the same Republic.  
But each of them knew their time had passed.

Rex raised the datapad, still looking around the formation, then let his arm drop to his side.  
He had known the feeling only once before, when Fives had lay in his arms, hanging on to every last bit of his consciousness. He swallowed, raising his head again.  
“There’s no question behind why we’re all standing here today. The Republic doesn’t need us to fight our war anymore. The time for war and bloodshed has passed, and the time to rebuild is now.  
“The orders I’m holding in hand are arrangements for civilian jobs and work that have been arranged by the Republic. You’ll be dispersed to your new jobs within the coming weeks, and integrated into the civilian population on Coruscant, and perhaps around the galaxy.  
“We all knew this would happen some day. We just didn’t know if we’d live to see it.  
“And I know for damn sure I’d be glad to see all of you standing here today if our other brothers were still with us now. They’d’ve loved to see the end of it.”  
Rex moved the datapad in his hands. It wasn’t time to go yet, but it certainly felt like it.  
“Gents, I just want to say, it’s been an honor serving with you.”

His eyes swept the gathered formation.  
There was a movement of blue and white, as a single clone near the front of the formation arced his arm.  
The motion began to ripple along the entire formation, as clone after clone rose their arms in salute towards Rex. Not just their Commander, their fellow soldier, their own brother in arms. Towards every clone not standing with them on that day, in the galaxy.  
The move swept across the ship, as other formations picked up on the symbol, stopping their own commanding officers mid-sentence and mid-step, as the gesture was reciprocated by the one clone who had led them into battle.  
For that moment, the Grand Army of the Republic stood unified, rendering final salutations to the people they had fought so valiantly for, and for those who would have stood there with them.  
Without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel this one was a little shorter, but there was definitely the emotional thought at the forefront of it.  
> And the entire Grand Army, breaking military bearing, salutes the people they've fought alongside for so long spontaneously. It's enough to make Yularen cry.  
> Anybody want to form up a seven gun salute? They're going to need a lot of tibanna cartridges.


	8. Peace and Prosperity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Republic, and a couple of relationships, begin to rebuild.

“The bill to commence the integration of the clones of the Grand Army of the Republic into civilian society, recognize the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and effect an immediate unconditional treatise of peace with the Separatist Alliance will now proceed with its final vote.  
“In our few years of strife, we owe it to the people of this world for alerting the galaxy to the beginnings of this conflict, and thus, we would like to end where it all began.  
“The Chair recognizes the Senator from Naboo for its final decision.”  
Padme Amidala rose from her seat in her pod, hovering before the entirety of the Galactic Senate.  
“My fellow representatives, members of the Galactic Senate, and my fellow citizens.  
“At the pleasure of the people of Naboo, and peace loving citizens across the galaxy, I speak with humility when I recall the roots of this conflict that I know we are all eager to finally put to rest.  
“When the Trade Federation initiated its blockade against the planet of Naboo so many years ago, it was the decisive actions of the Republic and the Jedi Order in bringing peace to our stricken world, to the credit and the great sacrifice of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, at the hands of the Sith.  
“Now, as the Clone Wars draws to a close, the threat of the Sith has passed, and a new time for peace and prosperity has come again. For the planet of Naboo, and for our fellow citizens of the Galactic Republic.  
“On behalf of a galaxy looking to the future, I have the obligation and sincere privilege of casting an ‘aye’ vote in favor of the bill.”  
The subsequent announcement of the adjournment of the session was drowned out by an immediate resounding wave of cheers across the floor of the Senate. Standing off to the side, the gathered members of the Jedi Order watched as the cheering continued unabated. Padme’s pod returned to its original position, looking around at familiar faces, trading jubilant grins with her fellow senators, and reaching across gaps, clasping and shaking hands.  
The celebration across the entire planet, and across the entire galaxy, had continued unabated, citizens shedding tears of joy and hugging total strangers, chanting joyous songs together in intergalactic languages, sharing in the communal moments of the end of the Clone Wars. It was only one day, and yet everybody knew they would be remembering the moment the news had broke, hearing of rumors and whispers in the wind that were too good to be true, yet a harbinger of hope. The feeling would last for the next week, perhaps the next month, perhaps for years to come.  
The official cessation of hostilities between the Republic and the Confederacy. The knowledge that there would be a new peace, a new future, a new hope.

Senators docked their pods, spilling out into the hallways, vigorously shaking hands and embracing each other in wide hugs. The noise eventually dulled to a din chatter and the occasional laugh as the gathered representatives slowly made their way to the Grand Concourse, where servant droids preemptively stood at the ready with platters and glasses of an assortment of fine wine and celebratory drinks, kicking off a spontaneous party. Somewhere along the line, one of the senators had attempted to open a bottle of sparkling wine, the alcohol fizzing and spilling out onto the floor as those gathered around laughed.  
Following the session, the Jedi had scattered, greeting close friends and representatives, with business to be exchanged only at a later time. For now, each one had taken to participating in the merry festivities. While not every member had made their way to the Senate Building, it was a sure guarantee that many had been watching the legislative session take place, and were celebrating at the Temple.  
Of those who were present, though, Ahsoka now sat in a pit along the Concourse, a peculiar sensation rushing to her cheeks as the glass of sparkling Alderaanian wine made its way into her system. She peered over at Anakin with a small smirk on his face, both of them raising their glasses, toasting each other, and downing another sip as senators mulled about. It wasn’t orthodox for a Jedi, much less a Padawan, to consume alcohol, of course, but this was Anakin Skywalker they were talking about. And if not for his already reckless reputation, he had pretty much single-handedly ended the war. Who was going to stop him from letting his Padawan indulge herself?

So much had happened since all those years ago. Since she had first stepped off that shuttle, set foot on Christophsis, watched the face of her new master quizzically ask, “And who are you supposed to be?”  
She had grown so much, no doubt about it. Had been through everything the war had thrown at her, through everything the galaxy had thrown at her. She had emerged on the other side, not always triumphant, but always a little more knowledgeable, a little wiser.  
She had learned through noticing things. No matter how small or large, no matter how significant or insignificant. Her emotions changed between blissful and bittersweet as she recalled her interactions with those who she had taught, and learned from in turn. Her mind cast itself upon Steela, then on Lux. She let herself smile, remembering their bickering, the fact that Steela would have enjoyed seeing her world freed, more so a galaxy at peace.  
_We make a good team, don’t we?_  
The image of her hand on the window of the hatch flashed through her mind.  
_Be careful, Lux._  
She picked her head up, looking around. Thoughts began to swirl in her mind, recalling memories that had been buried from ages ago. Lux was here. He had said he would be here. He was somewhere in the building. He would be here. He had to be.  
Ahsoka leapt up, wine in hand, and began a dash across the room, not noticing Anakin gazing after her.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar young stature of the brown haired boy. His figure was hidden amongst a couple of his colleagues, finishing a conversation as one placed a reaffirming hand upon his shoulder, stepping away.  
“Lux!” she called, the boy turning, his eyes widening as Ahsoka threw herself at him. His arms felt around her back, momentarily unsure of who or what had just forcibly enveloped him in an embrace.  
Ahsoka released him, stepping back a couple of paces and picking up her now refilled glass, scooping up another from an idling servant droid and giving it a sniff. The scent of flowers met her nose as she looked back up at Lux.  
The boy was standing in partial shock and joy as he managed to sputter her name.  
“Ahsoka!-” he said, looking her over. “You- how did you-”  
“Long time, Lux.” She offered the second glass, to which the boy took after a moment’s hesitation. The two walked over to an empty series of seats, Lux gesturing for her to take a seat first before assuming his own. They traded looks, fine glasses in hand, neither knowing where to speak.  
After a moment, their heartfelt smiles subsided a bit as the same thought crossed their minds.  
“To Steela,” Lux said softly.  
“To Steela,” Ahsoka replied.  
They brought their glasses together, the clink audible only to them in the ambient noise. Both of them downed a sip of wine.  
“She would have loved to see today,” Lux said, the pair lowering their drinks.  
Ahsoka looked down at her glass. “She should have been here, like the rest of the rebels.”  
“They’re proud of what they’ve done. What we’ve done. What it means for all of them.” Lux took another sip. “I guarantee you that Steela won’t be forgotten anytime soon. Once we begin to rebuild, they’ll be remembered for everything they did during this war. Especially her.”  
“Because a person only truly dies once their name is forgotten.”  
Lux nodded.  
The two sat, sipping on their drinks, watching the other representatives and officials moving about.  
“You did good out there, Lux.”  
“I can say the same to you, Ahsoka.” Lux looked at her, Ahsoka knowing he meant what he said. “Even if this was all orchestrated by the very person that we thought we could entrust with power at the very top, we fought with courage, valour, and bravery for what we thought was right.”  
Ahsoka sat quiet for just a moment, inclined to say something. Anything.  
“I’ll drink to that,” she said. The glasses came together again as both shared another sip.  
Ahsoka lowered her glass again, looking around, then at Lux.  
“Oh- uh, Lux. I have to go.”  
“Go? But we just-”  
“I know, I know, it’s Anakin- I mean, Master Skywalker, he’ll be wondering why I’m gone and why I’m not back yet, and-”  
“I got it, Ahsoka,” Lux said, a smile on his face. He stood. “It was good catching up with you.”  
Ahsoka got to her feet as well. “The same to you, Lux.”  
He held out a hand, to which Ahsoka met with her own, shaking once.  
They held themselves together for just another moment before breaking apart.  
“See you ‘round, eh?”  
“I’ll see you soon.” Ahsoka gave him a parting nod. “We’ve got to catch up sooner or later.”  
Lux raised a hand in farewell, the gesture being returned as Ahsoka sprinted back the way she had come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this was a doozy! Give me three hours, a clear mind, and look what a web I can weave.  
> This was originally going to be more politics and Anakin-Padme centered, but then I included Ahsoka again because my mind demanded it, and then I remembered that Lux was the Senator for Onderon, and then my mind just spit line after line at me!  
> Truly wonderful, the mind of a writer is.


	9. Extended Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin reveals his secret.

The trio stood along the edge of the balcony, the yellow light of sunset casting itself upon them as the sun sank into the sky, small glasses of drink and juice sitting on the railing ledge beside each of the three Jedi.  
They had remained there for the previous half an hour, as their fellow companions had, one at a time, bid them farewell until tomorrow, wrapping up a day’s worth of celebrations and, for some, a day’s worth of contemplation.  
Far off and in the multitude of levels beneath the surface, the roaring of celebrations continued, never ending since dawn and predictably continuing until dusk, and then far past it. On the balcony, though, all was quiet, save for the distant noise.  
The sky was hued in vibrant shades of color, the red as vivid as roses, the orange deep and bright, the golden yellows, greens, and blues faintly soft and mellow. Situated in the open, descending slowly upon the horizon, the star at the core of the galaxy shone its rays of light upon the surface of the planet, bathing the trio in its warmth.  
The three stood, their arms crossed upon the railing, their minds genuinely clear for the first time in a long time, simply watching the magnificence of the sunset before their eyes, basking in what it all truly meant.  
Obi-Wan looked over at his two fellow Jedi, his white robes blowing gently in the breeze, his mug of tea in hand. He broke the silence, the first to speak in a while. “I suppose that’s it, then. The Clone Wars is finally finished.”  
Anakin bowed his head, turning to look at his master. “And what’s next for us, then?”  
Obi-Wan breathed out, collecting his thoughts. “We return to our old way of life, Anakin. Changed, certainly, but far more wiser and more understanding of the galaxy, and the Force around us.”  
Ahsoka turned her head at this, listening into their conversation.  
“But they’re all right, Master,” Anakin said, gesturing out at the rest of the city before them. “We can’t just ‘return to the old ways’. We’ve been tested and changed, and no matter how much we adhere to what we thought before, we just can’t go back. Not after everything we’ve been through.”  
The Jedi placed a hand to his chin in his classic pose, contemplating what to say next. “It will be difficult, Anakin, but we will try, and we will adapt. We cannot change the Code, but we can change ourselves, as much as to what we were before.”  
Ahsoka lowered her head, focusing on her own thoughts.  
“Many in the Order have worried about how the war has changed them, and how they might not return to being themselves afterwards. I’d have to say those concerned would include you as well, Anakin.”  
Anakin’s eyes met Ahsoka’s as they both looked at each other for just a moment, their thoughts becoming the same.  
“And what if I didn’t have to be in the Order?” her master asked, turning once more to his own. “If the war’s changed us all irrevocably, and we can’t transition back to life as a regular Jedi, what if we decided to leave?”  
It was Obi-Wan’s turn to bow his head in thought. “I will grant you, Anakin, that the choice will be difficult. Between those of us here, there is only one person who has actually ever made that decision.”  
If even possible, Ahsoka’s head lowered further, recalling each progressing step as she had descended down from the Jedi Temple, tears in her eyes, walking into a golden sunset much like the one on the horizon.  
“But it’s possible.”  
“It is indeed.”

“But what if it wasn’t just the war?” Anakin let out after only a brief period of quiet. “What if it was something else, something that meant you couldn’t stay in the Order?”  
A brow furrowed on Obi-Wan’s face. “Something else?”  
“Yeah. Something else. Like, say, attachments. An attachment that goes deeper than anything anybody else would have imagined.”  
“Perhaps even me?”  
Both Anakin and Ahsoka looked over at Obi-Wan, his expression unchanging, but with a glint of a twinkle in his eye.  
Anakin knew that he knew, but not to the extent that anybody would ever have thought possible.  
“Maybe.”  
Ahsoka and Obi-Wan met each other’s eyes, both knowing the other had more than an inkling of what Anakin was hiding. Obi-Wan refocused his attention on Anakin.  
“Does this have anything to do with Padme, Anakin?”  
His expression changed, clenching a fist as he visibly internally contemplated the risks of exposing himself to his two closest, most trusted friends.  
Not just friends, no. Family.  
“It does.”  
Obi-Wan took a sip from his mug.  
“It’s more than anything I’d be able to tell anybody else.”  
Ahsoka felt her heart pounding in her chest for something that didn’t even directly concern her.  
“I don’t know if you’d be obligated to inform the Council, but I can’t hold onto it much longer. Not after what finishing the Clone Wars means for the entire galaxy. For us.” Anakin’s glass moved around, the half finished drink inside swishing around.  
The pounding in Ahsoka’s chest grew faster and louder.  
Anakin let out a sigh, steeling himself for what he would say next.  
“Padme and I are-”

“Married.” Ahsoka heard herself say the word. “You and Padme are married.”  
Both Obi-Wan and Anakin stared at her, their faces showing their disbelief, shock, surprise, and on Obi-Wan’s, a hint of intrigue. Even Ahsoka didn’t realize she had actually said anything until a few seconds had passed.  
The elder Jedi moved himself from the railing, sizing up his former apprentice.  
“How long have you known.” Anakin’s voice showed no sense of fear or alarm, simply wondering aloud.  
“A while,” Ahsoka said.  
Her thoughts shot back to the times spent with Padme, noticing their similarities, their traits, the impassioned bickering and bantering. Why he had always placed her under her protection. Why he had always seemed to care more for Padme than he should have under the Jedi Code.  
She looked over at Obi-Wan, his eyes focused on something far away, his thoughts not where they should have usually been for someone of his eminence. It was almost as if he was reliving the past, questioning it, wondering where things could have gone differently.  
It was almost as if there was pain hiding inside him.  
“And how is Padme?” he asked at last, holding his mug in his hands.  
Anakin was at a loss for words, his mouth agape, trying to find the right words to say. After a moment, he gave in, speaking bluntly.  
“She’s pregnant,” he blurted out. “Twins,” he added.  
Something in Ahsoka’s chest lifted itself up. She let herself smile, a giggle forming at the joy of the occasion. Obi-Wan seemed to cast himself out of his trance, staring straight at his apprentice.  
“Really?” he asked, apparently forgetting who he was, lowering his hand and crossed elbow in shock.  
“Yeah. Really.”  
Obi-Wan returned to his spot at the railing, breathing out. He smiled over at his two companions beside him.  
“Congratulations, Anakin.”  
He placed a hand on his shoulder as Anakin turned to him, the fading rays of sun illuminating his face.  
“Tell the Council, don’t tell the Council. It’s entirely up to you.”  
“Oh, I don’t think Master Yoda and the others will be knowing anything anytime soon.” Obi-Wan made a show of moving himself back from the railing, taking another sip of his tea. “Not unless you decide to tell them yourself.”  
“So, I was right. You did understand.”  
“That I do, Anakin. Besides, who do you think taught it to you?” Obi-Wan chortled at his own joke. “You got where I couldn’t with Satine. And that time has passed, but it hasn’t yet for you and Padme. And, if you’ll allow me to say so, I feel you’ll finally be able to get someplace with you and her, now that all this, at long last, is finally over.”  
He raised his mug, extending it forward. “To your future together, Anakin.”  
“To the future, together.” There was the clinking of glass as the trio toasted to something greater than themselves.  
The fruit juice had never tasted sweeter on Ahsoka’s lips.

The two turned back to the dimming sun as it set far off in the distance, rising tomorrow to meet a new day, a new future.  
They gazed back as Obi-Wan retreated into the Temple.  
“Was it really that obvious?” her master asked, giving her his first smile since he had revealed the news.  
“Bits and pieces,” she said, smiling back at him. They turned back to the sunset, Ahsoka’s thoughts on the couple’s future relationship together. What everything would now mean for them, since the war was over. Since the fabled prophecy had come true.  
Since Anakin had fulfilled his destiny as the Chosen One.  
“Maybe now, you won’t have to keep it a secret.”

They placed their heads together, Anakin visibly working the thoughts over in his head. There was another respite of silence before Anakin spoke.  
“I wasn’t lying, you know, when I said I understood wanting to walk away from the Order.”  
Ahsoka looked up at him, watching his eyes staring into hers, as the words came back to her from a future past.  
“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me an hour and fifteen minutes, this is what you get.  
> While I was writing this, I was constantly battling myself in my head, wondering if both Ahsoka and Obi-Wan knew the complete extent of Anakin's marriage with Padme. Odds are, since they both know how Anakin works and have also been through similar circumstances, and especially since Ahsoka's been with Padme a lot more on assignments, Ahsoka would know a lot more, but Obi-Wan would also know, albeit at a lesser level than her.  
> I also repurposed what was originally going to be the ending from the previous chapter, after I realized that I wasn't supposed to combine politics and Anakin's relationship with Padme so I could actually leave it to be explored with an entire chapter, that chapter being this one.  
> Well, the secret's out. We'll see how it all ends.


	10. A Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka finds herself pondering what everything really means.

Ahsoka Tano leaned against the railing, her back to the lakehouse, the wind flowing breezily around her lekku.  
The air was crisp and clear through her nose, the quiet chirps and calls of small animals hanging in the night sky. The distant rolling hills were dark and blue with the evening light. Upriver, giant columns of water descended into the bay, encircled by rock and stone. The moon shone brightly, the light illuminating the terrace upon which Ahsoka stood.  
Naboo was beautiful.  
The lights of the city of Theed were faint, twinkling like the stars upon the horizon.  
Ahsoka appreciated the moment, the time to think freely and clearly, with significant clarity and ease of mind. She could have meditated if she had wanted to.  
Instead, she allowed herself to think and ponder, review the last few years in full, reminiscing introspectively and questioning everything she had done. Everything everybody had done.  
It felt wrong, in a sense. To have been robbed of what she should have deserved as a peacekeeper. A Padawan of the Jedi Order, not a soldier or a warrior.  
But so much else had been done along the way. So much had she been through, and as a result, so much had she learned. She had learned and she had taught. Where the Jedi Code failed, morals and integrity succeeded.  
Such were the likes of the children of Mandalore, or Khalifa and the Younglings being hunted by the Trandoshans, or Prince Lee-Char and the people of Mon Calamari. The brave Younglings of the Gathering, inspiring others to defy the odds and escape not just Hondo Ohnaka, but General Grievous as well. Lux Bonteri, Steela and Saw Guerra, the rebels and the people of Onderon. Each and every clone trooper that had served under her command.  
Where there was nothing, there was hope.

 _Well, then perhaps some good has come from all of it.  
The Republic couldn’t have asked for better soldiers.  
Nor I, a better friend._  
There was each other.

But what else was there? It had all been pointless, it had all been for no reason, other than the great plotting of some Sith Lord manipulating everything. It hadn’t been a war for peace and freedom and liberty, it never had been. It had always been the Republic and the Separatists versus everybody else, not each other.  
It had been pointless civilian bloodshed. The people they were supposed to protect, their homes and worlds destroyed, countless lives lost for a conflict greater than them, for no other reason than the Sith. It had always been the Sith.  
Ahsoka clenched her hands into fists on the railing, shutting her eyes and taking deep, measured breaths.  
She reopened them, feeling more tired than she had a few moments previously. Her head hurt, heavy with the trauma of the thought, the knowledge that nothing had ever come to fruition because of the war.  
She let her shoulders sag in defeat, before she picked up the soft sounds of somebody approaching her. She turned as Padmé made her way to the rail beside her, a very young twin cradled in her arms.  
Ahsoka reached out a hand, taking one of the twin’s own and lifting it up, feeling the lightweightedness. Both of them turned back towards the view beyond the terrace.

“You’re up late.” Ahsoka’s mind cast itself to a familiar corner, not knowing where to begin.  
Padmé gave her a look. “I felt you’d like some company.”  
Ahsoka lowered her head, looking down upon the lake, splitting the lakehouse from the hills across the way.  
The question asked itself.  
“How long did you know?”  
“A while.”  
The senator’s gaze fixed itself upon the Togruta, shifting the baby in her arms.  
“You’ve been thinking?” she asked again.  
Ahsoka gently nodded her head yes.  
“The war?”  
Ahsoka nodded again. “It just seems pointless.”  
“Things do sometimes seem that way, yes.” Padme shifted the twin in her arms. “And sometimes, there’s really no answer. Nothing we can say or think that can cover up that hole, the void in our hearts where there’s supposed to be some sort of reason or rationalization for what we’ve done, and for what everything means.”  
Ahsoka cast a glance over at Padmé, not having expected an impromptu passionate speech.  
“Thanks.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
The two stood at the railing, watching the scenic view, the stars glistening from far away.  
“It feels weird, not having anything to do.”  
“War does that to you, I suppose,” Padmé shrugged. “Now, it’s just a matter of making sure we tie up everything in a nice and neat knot, and keep our word with the Separatists.”  
Ahsoka nodded. “Yeah.”  
Padmé put a hand on her shoulder, the feeling easing Ahsoka’s mind. “I’ll be waiting if you want to head back inside.”  
She stepped back along the stone patio as Ahsoka turned her attention back to the scenery.

Ahsoka remained silent for a while, casting her gaze around the hills and the water.  
She took a deep breath in, letting the crisp air clear her mind. She let herself think.  
_Is it really over? Will it ever be over? Can we live past everything that’s happened?_  
The environment seemed to become more vivid, the darkened sky streaked with deep hues of blue and purple, the hills blackened green with the look of soft fuzzy grass upon their round surfaces. The water in the lake below sloshed slowly, glossy with black and deep blue and the currents peaked with moonlit crests. The calls of nocturnal birds echoed across the surface. The breeze and the air were clean and clear.  
She was here with Anakin, and she was here with Padmé. She was alive. Everybody she loved was alive.  
Even if everything had been for nothing, they had created something out of all of it. Something beautiful.  
She let her breath out.  
_It is. It really is. It’s finally over. We will.  
I know we will._

Ahsoka took in the last few moments, carving every detail into her memory. She smiled to herself, watching the stars and the moon above.  
She turned around, walking towards Padmé, the young one still tucked into her arms, as they began to walk back down the stone path towards the lakehouse, where Anakin was likely already sound asleep.  
Everything felt free again, everything was new again. Because they had lived through what so many more hadn’t. What so many more would have wanted them to make better in lieu of them.  
Today was the day the Clone Wars ended. Today was the day a new future began.  
For everybody. For Padmé. For Anakin.

For Ahsoka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Hour and a half. So, that's it. First work done.  
> I did have a few more ideas to push fifteen chapters, but I didn't want to go over the theoretical threshold of non-canon canon. I've been cryptically vague enough as is already, just to gloss over whether or not Windu, Fisto, and company did survive their duel with Papa Palpy!  
> I'll say that this has really had quite a learning curve. Lot of intermittent research on things that needed brushing up on, even on stuff I thought I knew out of the repository of useless knowledge I have in mind. Of course, as with any good writer, this won't be my best work, and I'll always be learning. I think things really picked up towards the last few chapters, where I had the time, enthusiasm, and presence of mind to get something brilliant done. Always great to see the finished product.  
> I've had a few different iterations of how the Naboo scene ends up even before writing this, with different psychological states and dialogue between Ahsoka and Padmé. But the one shared commonality is that enough words can't describe just how scenic their environment on Naboo is in my head.  
> So, yeah, that's that. We leave Ahsoka on Naboo, the Skywalker family is in full bloom, and the future, beautiful and everlasting, is yet to be beheld.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around.  
> May the Force be with you, always.


	11. Chapter 11

The future was bleak.

The girl stared out upon the white helmets, weathered scratches and streaks of black covering their orange and white markings and blue paint.  
Her eyes cast themselves across the graveyard, each stick standing tall above a buried mound of sand, the final resting places of the brothers that had ultimately been all but pawns in a bigger plot. A plot bigger than anybody could have foreseen, than anybody could have known.

Her black cloak billowed in the wind, the only thing moving across the desolate wreck of the ship.  
He had been right. He had been so unfortunately right. Maybe even about him.  
No. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it. He never could have been what he had foretold. A pupil of the very embodiment of evil. Not the one she had known. Not the one she had grown to love and care for.

Her arms ached, sore from uncovering and laying to rest every one of her fallen brothers, finding true peace only in their deaths. Even when they had been manipulated into betraying everybody else she had loved, even when they had unconditionally attempted to execute her, she had still loved them. She had refused to hurt them, and couldn’t allow her only remaining brother standing meters behind her to do so as well. For them. For him. For her. 

He had been right, all this time. Their time had come, and their time had ended. A new power had risen and had overthrown them without them seeing it until it was far too late. It had turned everybody against each other, had sewn chaos and terror, and had used it all to strengthen itself and eradicate those who stood in their way.

She stood silent. There had been no choice for any of them once everything had reached the turning point. There had only been her choice, and those of the man behind her, standing beside the fighter.  
None of them had ever had a true future. Now, they would never get to see it.

She peered down, grabbing onto something hidden underneath her cloak. The object was as light as the last many times she had held it, its metal still gleaming in the heated sunlight, but it was heavy and weighted with the knowledge imbued into it symbolically. For letting go of it meant letting go of everything that she had been, that could have been.

It was a moment’s hesitation that allowed her to think. To think of everything that she had gone through with this particular object. Every moment, every memory, every battle and conquest, lessons taught and lessons learnt.  
Victory and death.  
She had known nothing but war since the day she had been assigned to her first mission, since she had met the person she would eventually come to know as the closest thing to an older brother as she would ever know. The person, he had said, that would one day commit the same atrocities he had been fighting against for as long as she had known him.

They had all been part of something greater, something none of them would understand, something only a handful of people would have the trauma of suffering from while recollecting their memories. It had all been wasteful, fruitless, useless bloodshed.  
They had all been robbed of what could have been. What they could have eventually lived for. The future had been taken away from everybody, and it had been taken away from her most of all.

She weighed the object in her hands, placing into memory the sensation of holding it there.  
It had at one time meant hope and courage, liberty and freedom, justice and righteousness.  
It meant fear. Fear, in this new age, of who she was. Of who she had once been. Of who she could never return to being.  
She tilted her hand and let it roll forward.  
It hit the ground at her feet with a sharp sound, laying in the sand for what would be eternities to come.

She looked down at it, the shining metal and black accents looking back up at her.  
Everything was supposed to have meant something. Everything was supposed to be different.  
She shouldn’t have had to be standing there, giving up what could have been, the what ifs, the hypotheticals.  
If everything had gone differently. If everything had changed. If everything that they had said would occur had never occurred.

If somebody had gotten there in time.  
If somebody had been there for them.  
If she had only been there for him.

It was over. It was all over.  
That past would never return.

She gazed between the towering bridges, sitting high atop the stricken superstructure of the vessel, into the sky beyond.

She looked to the future.


End file.
